Game
by Sazerac
Summary: Fate made it so that Vermouth adopted Shinichi and introduced him to the Black Organisation. Vermouth trained him to be one of their best. He gained her trait of playing games with people's lives, and holds KID's in that fragile balance. Follows DC/MK, AU
1. Introductory GAME: Prologue

**Introductory GAME**

**.: Prologue :.**

The two figures faced each other, black and white amongst the navy sky.

White stood casually, with an aura of confidence and superiority. This was emphasized by the mischievous smile painted on his face, most of which was hidden by the top hat over his monocle. He was both illuminated and given quite a surreal impression by the pale moon behind him, the calm wind playfully ruffling his cape to the east. The way he stood, hands in pockets and body language assertive, it seemed as if he knew and was the one who planned this impromptu meeting.

On the other hand, the second visitor seemed to be the complete opposite of the white one. He did not have the moon to his back, and his dark, slightly tight-fitting yet comfortable clothes blended seamlessly into the night sky which framed his presence. The staring competition was unobstructed even when his deep russet red hair brushed past his face and emerald eyes thanks to his hair being blown about by the breeze.

Suddenly, the white's eyes fleetingly flickered away towards the rooftop behind them, and black did not pay attention to the soft footsteps heard behind him. A look of recognition flew above white's poker face, and he involuntarily took a sharp breath. Long fingers curved around the brim of his hat and pulled it further down, either as a safety measure or to aid the recovery of the shock accidentally slipping past his barriers.

Gritting his teeth, white had tensed up by now and his left hand twitched. By the way his lower lip vibrated, he had hissed through his teeth, impossible for the black to lip-read and stolen by passing zephyrs. It would've been quite disconcerting to a random passerby - all parts of the phantom thief screaming out anger and hatred, yet blue sapphire eyes remaining unaffected - not the image typically shown to the general public. Those eyes closed for a brief instant, and upon opening white's emotions had seemingly gone and disappeared, leaving only a blank shell.

Black did not think much of this at all, simply standing there and revealing himself to be the one originally in charge of the situation, no matter how much the other decided to pretend differently. Sharp eyes pierced the misty night and he smiled triumphantly.

The sound of a shot rang through the air.

He quickly turned at this moment, intent on welcoming the newest guest to his party, the way a genuine host would. White, however, decided to cut in before him.

"What are you doing here, Snake?"

Black's eyes brightened suddenly, another idea forming in his mind and grinned - an open and honest grin - to the one situated on the other rooftop.

"Ah...Snake, is it? Is that what they're calling you now?" Kudo Shinichi's eyes narrowed disapprovingly. "Since our greetings have now been exchanged, however, I'm afraid I have been asked to eliminate you from the Organisation."

* * *

Gwah hah hah hah!..Had this written ages ago. Didn't publish it. Updates most likely will be slooow. Blah, some of these sentences don't flow right. Tch.


	2. First GAME: Adoption

This chapter is a bit iffy, too. Updates won't be as fast in the future, will update as soon as possible though.

Thanks to Marie9 for Beta'ing.

* * *

**First GAME**

**.: Adoption :.  
**

To say there was a shocked silence was an understatement when it came to telling Kudo Yuusaku and his wife about their son's death. There were really no words powerful enough to describe the emotions between his parents, but the Black Organization operative was of course, unfazed, and it didn't make a difference whether or not he showed emotion. He was in the guise of a doctor, after all.

Another was posing as a policeman, filling in the details. Apparently, a silver Toyota had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, spinning out of control and crashing into the car their son was in then breaking the safety barrier at the edge of the cliff-side road before plummeting into the ocean, but not before travelling quite a long distance away. Chris Vineyard's Ferrari had also somehow caught onto the speeding car, and they also went down too.

Thus, the American actress, the reckless driver and Kudo Shinichi had been dubbed legally dead after a year had past.

Chris's daughter, Sharon, had been extremely upset that her mother had to share this fate, especially since her mother's best friend's son had also shared the same. The 'police' had contacted them to inform that the driver was indeed drunk, having passed through a checkpoint some time ago with the police giving chase. He did not have his license with him, but he seemed no older then nineteen.

The Vineyard successor apologized to Shinichi's mother over and over again on behalf of hers, but the Kudo had brushed it away and merely blamed the incident upon the speeding car's driver. She had not known at the moment that the driver was another member solely loyal to _anokata_'s favourite, Vermouth.

Had Yukiko also known that it was her best friend who kept her still-alive son, she may have done something she in future would regret. As it was, she was oblivious to the fact that Shinichi was with some of Sharon's medical...contacts, one could say. She had given up most of her hope, especially because the vehicle they were in had been a convertible, and had sunken quite quickly after the water seeped past the window screen as it had pitched forward.

Shinichi, on the other hand, Vermouth had been informed a week after the incident, was recovering slowly from the shock of seeing all the blood. It was faked, of course, by spilling the blood their scientists drained off their test subjects, as animal blood could possibly be seen through as false. Besides, it was quite barbaric, bleeding animals to their deaths just for some lacking special effects. The test subjects were left feeling faint and light-headed, but they never died. Rest and Recuperation did the trick – the organization _was_ indebted to them after all for placing their lives on the line – albeit sometimes unwillingly.

Hopefully, the entire act could help to erase the child's memory through post-traumatic amnesia. After all; there was no guarantee that he would suffer from childhood amnesia later on in life, and if he still kept his memories then either a lie could be fabricated or they would use drugs to do it forcefully.

Vermouth wasn't sure that _anokata_ would approve of the drugs, though. She shrugged. With the Black Organization's influence, it would be easy to create the lie, but she needed to find the members which _would_ help out with her task.

Her phone rang, and the difference in tune was recognisable only to those who were informed beforehand of the slight change in one of the notes. It was the one she set for their medics, and she answered by flicking the phone open and raising one eyebrow pointedly.

"Yes?"

"Ah, Belmont. This is Perroquet, informing you of your new charge's status."

"So?" She was impatient – the next stage in her newest game needed to be completed quite soon.

"He is awake..." Perroquet hesitated, trying to think of what she wanted to know and what she didn't. She could get quite snappy when impatient.

"And does he remember anything?"

"Not at all."

A smile crossed her face, her brows lowered and her eyes darkened. "Wait for me, gentlemen. You have done a fine job of this, and now I thank you considerably. Also, tell him that his mother will be there to see him soon."

"What are you planning, Belmont?" demanded Perroquet abruptly. "If you will harm him – you know that is against the Code."

"I know about the Code – haven't we all memorized it back-to-front? Don't worry." She had been exasperated, but now the sudden change in character gave him chills. "I will still follow on with my part of the agreement to forward you to _anokata_. They will decide whether or not you will gain a promotion, but then it would have been out of my hands."

"Yes, Belmont." The tone which he used was meek, knowing he was quite a few ranks below her.

"Expect me in one and a half hours. I have preparations to make."

And with that, she hung up.

**-1-**

_Anokata_ had agreed to this new...idea of Vermouth's, but the only main point they made was for Shinichi to be taken care of properly, and not to be put into such a great danger until he had proved capable of achieving so. She had not minded this, and had already placed that into deep consideration. Anyway, she had known them for years.

Vermouth spent her hour preparing herself to meet this Kudo Shinichi. If he had indeed forgotten everything, then her appearance (namely, her hair colour) may spark some memories. So, she disguised herself as someone who could have possibly been his mother, turned on her motorbike and set out to meet him.

The person who sped down the streets of New York now looked nothing like the one known as Sharon Vineyard. Her platinum blonde hair had morphed itself into a sleek black to match her charge's, falling perfectly straight to her chest, and what hair was in front of her face was now a fringe past her eyebrows.

She was still about the same height, of course. It was quite irritating after a while if you had to pretend to be taller or shorter then you actually were for quite a long time. The guise was overall, approximately the same as her one as the actress' daughter.

A few minutes later, a discreet blue motorbike was parked behind an apartment block. It looked quite new, but it too was quite inconspicuous as the colours were quite rusty but not so much as to seem ancient. Some windows were exposed or ajar with the rest having their (what seemed like) dull grey-blue curtains hanging closed, but the little that was visible through the open ones did not give much clues to whoever owned the residence or had hired it for the time being.

Vermouth had entered that building and visited the third apartment, pulling out a common-looking key and granting herself access. The window to her left had been closed earlier, most likely by either Perroquet or some other working for him who may have been looking after the minor. Checking for fingerprints would have been futile - as low as rank as he was, he still had some common sense.

Disguise had never been his forte, even though he was now a thin but stocky brunette with slim rectangular glasses and bangs long enough to tuck behind his ears. Not only that, but he enjoyed and actively wore the coat for his profession whenever he could, very different from Vermouth's V-neck jackets and common, sometimes bell-bottomed trousers.

Besides that, the only other reason that prevented him from rising within their Organisation's ranks was that he was tactless. She really wanted to know whether it was inherent or passed on by his mentor or teacher, but the only one who knew was _anokata_ so it was a little bit hard to find out the answer. Anyway, the Code prevented her from doing so if the person insisted no one search for his or her true name.

Perroquet, though, was skilled and extremely dedicated to his work, nonetheless, and clearly had done a good job of looking after Shinichi as she saw after entering one of the tucked-away bedrooms. The décor in the room had an unremarkably bland colour scheme, and was very simplistic and uncluttered simply with a bed, a side table, shelves and a closet. Most likely, the closet was for medication or some such, the shelves clearly had some spare bedspreads and a futon just in case the bed was not available for sleeping on and the side table for whatever the injured member was doing at the time.

The younger one stared at the newest person to enter the room and his eyes were quite questioning. His eyes...every time she looked at them a long-forgotten part of her would be entranced by their colour and innocent sparkle. It was just too bad that that innocence needed to be gone if you were to be in their Organisation, but what guilt she once may have felt had not re-emerged since she shielded herself from that part of her forty to fifty years ago.

His age must have been no younger than one and a half, but no older than three and a half. Who knew - after all, Vermouth had seen some children looking in the way he did at the age of four, only that she could see the slight lump under the blankets which notified her how tall he was. Even if he was short for his age, four-year-olds were rarely that short. She noticed that she had chosen correctly when it came to hair colour with his dark brown, scruffy from tossing and turning over the pillow. The hand that was visible quivered slightly and she noticed how nimble it was even at that age, and this time Vermouth _knew_ that she had chosen correctly for her task.

Vermouth leaned closer and kneeled so her softened eyes were in line with his, and spoke her next words quite sincerely compared to her usual manner of communication.

"Hello there, my little Sabra."


	3. Second GAME: Discovery

Kyaah! Sorry for not updating!

**Okay, so thankyou to Yin7, Tada21, Sephony, Maxy (Darth Maximus), bobbyneko, bart4nat, Enigma, xane00, Slavaskia, ShihoAi, RedHerring1412, Ilamaglamasama, Kurokari, glaiget5, AngelOfPastPresentAndFuture and - Envy4 - for the favourites, reviews and alerts!...that is a loong list**, though I was putting it off for a while...**And Marie9 for beta-ing!**

Anyway, enjoys!

* * *

**Second GAME**

**.: Discovery :.  
**

Some years after his adoption, Sabra – formerly known as Kudo Shinichi – had proven to be someone quite smart for his age. Even as young as seven he knew that something was different with his mother.

His mother, Vermouth, was not the kind of woman who would give out unnecessary information; whenever she chose to answer a question she tended to choose them with a care that was full of precision. It was always one point but in a lot of detail, with every point and every detail specially chosen by her as if to prepare him for something far greater in the near future.

School, too, had been strange for him compared to other people of different families. She had specifically instructed that if the teachers asked for his name he would pretend to be Sato Ikki, and if they asked who his mother was the reply would need to be Sato Azumi. He had learnt over the years not to ask too many questions and to control his curiosity, but he had a feeling that she would answer the question he had waiting if he asked. He eventually asked, and she did.

"_Why are we changing our names?" Vermouth paused. "It is because there are some bad people coming after me, and if they find out that I am actually Belmont then they will try to capture and kill me."_

Of course, Sabra believed her. She was always right. She proved it quite repeatedly and he had believed it when he was four.

His curiosity had always been his weak point, even if he was doing his best to prevent it from clouding his judgement. It seemed to be a natural, inborn fault though, and Vermouth said that if he could control it more she would become proud. It was a good thing if she was proud, as she would usually answer some of his questions.

And so, at the age of seven and impressing her with his ability to act and lie, he learnt of the Code.

The Code, his mother had said, was how her group operated.

Sabra had heard of _the group_ being referenced before. He knew that she actually worked for them, not any other false identity she created, and their ultimate goal in mind. He knew it was rare for their children to have code names before they were initiated, but he had been a special case. Apparently his had been reserved for him especially by their leader for his future.

Soon he grew to follow their Code and eventually, killed his first person at thirteen.

Vermouth, he had learned, was quite hesitant in him joining them, especially if the method involved someone else's death. He had always thought it was the typical worry of a parent, but it was actually her uncertainty at his ability to do and keep up with their demands with both his parents' genes within him. Sabra had been gifted with Yukiko's charisma and sense of naiveté and Yuusaku's strong but firm-willed sense of justice, but she was afraid that those factors would interfere with the careful training she had placed upon her young charge and prevent him from acting out the fate destined for their victim. Hesitation in a professional situation would guarantee certain death.

The worry seemed futile when Sabra flawlessly carried out the plan. It was simple and rigged, really - a mechanism linking a weight in a busy construction site and when it was activated would drop. The prey had a certain schedule, and had been beginning the path beneath the scaffolding when Vermouth instructed him to simply press the button.

He had questioned what it did previously before the incident, unsure if it were wise to ask.

She replied to him truthfully and honestly by saying it was to kill the man below. He had flinched at this point, but she continued that it was for the greater good of the world. The man was the head of a large trading group, and had been using his shipments of various goods to smuggle illegal drugs. Sabra knew what those drugs could do and the disaster brought upon the world from them.

With that understanding brought upon him, he dropped that weight; earning himself his first invisible black stain on the heart.

Joining and rising amongst the inner ranks of the group was quite simple for him - being trained for the sole reason as to become and stay poised as one of their best. Quite skilled in the art of disguise, trained with quite an array of weapons in a range somewhat far away, a hunter whose proficiency to blame others on his kills would mostly never fail and given the high task to remove traitors, he was referred to behind his back as the Eliminator.

And now at seventeen, he was possibly the most feared member by those within the Black Organisation.

**-2-**

There would always exist a tracking device or bug that could escape detection.

Those were the words specifically told to him by Vermouth two and a half years ago.

It was true, of course. Sweepers could detect some older ones but could not catch up to the newer advances in technology. Vermouth had also found a use for some of the previous models by having filming cameras planted outside any window and then lip-reading their plans. That was for a backup, lest the one situated inside be discovered.

One of the Black Organisation's newer developments included a tracker that could be attached and if squished or stepped on would secrete a chemical which was easily identifiable under an ultraviolet light. Sabra had requested one from the boss, and they quickly gave permission for his plan, as long as he still followed the orders they gave him previously.

Sabra's older orders involved checking up on the one known as Caipirinha. _Anokata_ had felt that whenever he reported to them he had either been lying or not entirely telling the full truth, as it was his job to follow to see whether or not they were betraying the organisation, and eliminate them is so needed. Betrayal was one of the highest offenses within the ranks and a proven whisper would mean instant death.

Caipirinha was quite conveniently a member of the group that kept tabs on skilled, well-known thieves. He had gone and partnered up with Kamikaze a while ago to try and capture one, but they may have turned rogue. Sabra had a very nice game in the works where the main goal was quite high: to track down the elusive Kaitou KID.

As to why - not many people, nor himself knew. It was quite strange, really, the way he had easily gained this trait from his mother and followed whatever _anokata_'s orders were quite well.

As to how - it was simple, really. His method relied mainly on human behaviour, and Sabra was quite confident that the KID would soon be within his grasp.

He just needed to wait.

And soon, as if he were willingly answering his wish, a little more than sixteen days later a heist notice had been reported in the paper. Everything had been planned and prepared beforehand for his new alias - passports, birth certificates and his new fingerprints had also been inserted into the database...after all, if you could wear a latex mask then surely you could wear latex gloves too, could you not?

Soon, Sabra in the guise of a police officer was staring at the Winged Sorcerer in all her glory. The gem itself was a magnificent amethyst, a brilliant, almost blinding fuchsia with slight tinges of burnt lilac throughout the gem. The gem was embedded in the 'maple' staff of a silver statue in the shape of a person. The intricately crafted hood they wore had nearly been pulled over their eyes and the robe itself was not particularly figure-hugging so the gender of the spellcaster hinted towards male even though the artist had proclaimed it female. Attached to their shoulder blades were two giant feathery wings as long as the person was tall, stretching out behind it at such an angle that you could also clearly see the full design and texture of the wings from the front.

The statue was in a typical glass box used for display at museums, the base rising to a height of one point three metres. The model was forty-seven centimetres tall including the thin wisps of silver drifting from the gem at the top of the staff where it was held, and it the weight of around about thirty kilograms, the estimate coming from the member of the Kaitou KID Task Force who had handled her before.

There were multiple sensors and alarms around the threshold; he was pretty sure he spotted at least four motion sensors on the ground floor. They were ready for an ambush at the order of Inspector Nakamori...in a false, easily-removable suit of armour in an effort to look discreet. If this was how they usually tried to capture KID, he allowed himself to think, than there is absolutely no chance of him proving superior winning.

At least, he mused, the shadows and what room there was inside the medieval look-alike provided some darkness in which he could hide his blowgun. The transmitter was hidden in the projectile and not hidden in the slightest as if he wanted him to find it, which he did. The only opportunity that Sabra would get was when the KID kneeled on top of the display and opened it to snatch his prize, as per his now usual procedure.

Ten seconds left...

He placed the tube to his lips, inhaling briefly and preparing himself.

Five seconds...

Movement!

He barely had time to swivel his head around the rusty-red room towards the direction when a flash bomb was set off. Inwardly, Sabra marvelled at the speed and precision that the phantom thief now worked at and how he truly was worthy to be part of his game. It was almost as efficient as his own but perhaps his advantage was due to the training Sabra had been provided since an extremely young age.

Meanwhile, Kaitou KID had appeared atop the pedestal, as he expected. Well, he did spend a week reviewing every single minute detail of the footage provided by both Nichiuri TV and the Suzuki Corporation; of course he would be right.

Nakamori's order for them to tackle KID down wasn't exactly the brightest either, he mused. But it _did_ service as a cover for him.

He waited, disregarding his current superior's instructions but making quite a large clanking sound inside the suit of armour and giving the impression that he was having trouble getting free.

The thief made to stand up the instant before all the policemen jumped upon him, and that movement was the exact opportunity he was looking for. Sabra swiftly fired his projectile with all the force he could in that moment, aiming for a certain target which granted him double the chances for success, changing his odds to seven in nine.

It flew across to the centre of the room in an instant before attaching itself to the KID's right sock. In the end of that moment, he had completed his task of standing up and, like usual, gave that big, practically trademarked grin that could break any of his fangirls' hearts to the place he knew the video camera was before disappearing like usual.

That was the moment Sabra had stepped out, finally, of the armour. Nakamori was quick to berate the newest member of the team for lacking skills (Sabra just had to roll his eyes at that) and even though he was recommended by one of the higher-ups he was out of his Task Force for good.

Now if only he knew that 'higher-up' was one of the lower members of the Black Organisation...

**-2-**

Three hours after the heist.

Sabra sat in his new apartment with his laptop before him. The Kaitou KID's signal, layered above a map of the local areas travelled some way away to what he knew very well was a public toilet. A _female_ public toilet, in fact.

That was where the signal had ceased twenty minutes ago.

He leaned back on his white recliner, deep in thought. What he did relied so heavily on normal human behaviour that there was a risk that the KID was aware of what he was trying to do and do something that would successfully avoid it.

Sighing wearily, he grabbed his ultraviolet flashlight and headed out of the apartment to Ekoda Park. The beginnings of doubt of his plan were beginning to surface, and questions which he tried to keep down were not helping his mood.

What if something like this had already occurred and he had been suspicious? Then what would he do? The KID was unpredictable, wasn't he?

Consoling himself didn't seem to be helping much either. He mentally reviewed the facts he thought were so certain and embedded in stone a few weeks ago.

Firstly, the tracker was lightweight, and when attached to a sock wouldn't go noticed by the wearer. The Kaitou's instant flash-changing tricks were just them - tricks. Thus, his clothes were probably rigged for easy changing using Velcro or something and he still needed to manually change out of them anyway. That was probably the only time he would notice the new attachment.

When people changed they usually started from the top down. So most likely the KID would take off his gloves first, thinking he was safe before shrugging off his blazer. Or perhaps he was in another costume now - it wouldn't make much difference as he would have access to his fingerprints anyway.

Who would keep gloves on when taking shoes off?

After the discovery of the tracker, if he was smart his gloves would be on when taking it off. And if you didn't have your gloves on and your fingerprints were on it, you'd destroy it just to be sure, right? Probably the easiest way to destroy it was to step on it...but not many people knew about the chemical inside. Better yet, it was invisible until shone at with an ultraviolet light.

Sabra sighed. That was in the case of normal human behaviour. The KID certainly was not normal.

But he _was_ human. He knew that.

The Ekoda Park's public toilets were usually avoided by the people who were spending their time amongst the greenery. Not many people visited, and only if they were desperate, but there was hardly anyone around at the hour in which Sabra arrived so he was mainly undisturbed. And if they asked why he was shining a weird torch to the ground so early in the morning, he could just say he lost something and the ultraviolet torch was the only one he had on him at the time.

He was just _so_ glad he had the foresight to quickly pull on one of his older latex masks, a wig and some more feminine clothes. It simply wouldn't do if he walked into the female toilet just like that.

Not much time was needed to search the floors of the four stalls for the tracker. He knew it would be there - all the attempts on KID's life had probably made him more cautious than usual.

The poor tracker; it was squished rather artistically with the damage clearly done by a shoe, nothing at all intact in the slightest. Sabra flicked the switch to turn on his torch, looking desperately for any footprints.

Nothing. The floor seemed normal.

Perhaps he did change with his gloves on...but how could he have been in the female stall in his KID costume? Before coming in he must have used one of his quick-change tricks and coming out afterwards in his civilian persona with simply a long-haired wig on that he could take off later in the shadows before returning home.

...Hang on. What was that discoloured spot over there?

He shone the torch away and turned the lights on to confirm there was nothing there before turning them off swinging it back. It could have possibly been the chemical from the tracker...

Sabra pulled out some photos out of the slightly uncomfortable v-necked jacket's inner pocket and matched their marks to the one on the floor. They were similar yet different, but...

A match!

The fifth photo marked **'ID: K16-34s9J**' in the lower left corner was almost identical to the kidney-shaped mark...well, obviously not in shape, but in terms of everything else. Filled with a strange, almost giddy exuberance he continued on, following the marks.

By following them, it seemed the KID thought he was safe, luckily straying away from water puddles and grass, preferring the footpath itself. It turned out that it was quite a direct path to his destination, but Sabra couldn't help but remark that the footprints were spaced oddly, like he was skipping.

Frankly, that didn't seem very strange. Perhaps the Kaitou was a little bit touched in the head, no?

As he passed the bus stop in front of one of the schools of Ekoda he began to worry. The chemical was fading away and could almost not be seen anymore. Once or twice he paused, circling around the same area to try finding even a small trace of the next print.

By the next block of houses he noticed just how late (or early) it actually was. The heist being at one-thirty in the morning, plus two and a half hours for the KID to do whatever, add onto that half an hour or so to contemplate and get ready to leave and then who-knows-how-long walking to Ekoda Park and then following the footprints the sun had already begun to rise. If that weren't the worst of his worries, it started sprinkling a few moments before.

The problems for him were that the golden light made it harder to use his flashlight and the rain might wash away the marks. And some people were starting to wake up and look at him strangely. He probably looked weird, circling around with a flashlight on the ground looking for something.

It wasn't to be that bad, however, as it appeared the next print was in front of a house. Sabra, being the observant Organisation member that he was, noticed it was facing a different direction, most likely toward the ordinary-looking house next to him.

His attention was drawn away from the house and to a noise coming from their roof. Catching sight of a quite a few white feathers around the residence it appeared that they owned doves or white pigeons - and a lot of them if the noises were any indication.

This was probably the best result he could have wished for, and now he knew where about the Kaitou KID lived he could stake it out and see...

A yawn overtook him.

...Ah, but after getting some rest. Even if he was trained for sleepless nights, sleep was _nice_ and _good _and _welcoming_.

He liked sleep.

* * *

It's odd how this came out really long, and in fact is the longest chapter I've ever written (has never had patience for such).

Well, I guess that's what using Write or Die gets 'ya.

My friend was bugging me for ages to write this...*hides*

~Nikki

**l  
V**


	4. Third GAME: Meeting

The last chapter was just obsenely long.

That's it.

Grawwhh, I'll do thanks next chapter. _Sleepy..._

* * *

**Third GAME**

**.: Meeting :.  
**

Kuroba Kaito was bored.

One arm propping his head up from the desk, his eyes found themselves half-closed from the sheer lack of things to do.

He thought back to the heist he'd had the day before – it was so much fun to watch Inspector Nakamori bustle about merely a week after his last. Everything was as planned, and that time he decided to use one of his older heist techniques; the Hand. Make a hole from underneath stick his hand through to inside the display case and grab the jewel right under their noses.

Truthfully, he almost pitied the guy. Sure: going around, watching how high his blood pressure could get and spending glorious time in the spotlight was great, but Nakamori was usually the one who paid.

And Aoko's liking of the KID was his price.

Maybe that was the reason Aoko wasn't at school yet. The entire Kaitou KID Task Force actually seemed really harried and worn the day before. They were slower, their reactions had faded and – amazingly, he had noticed – Nakamori's voice wasn't as loud as it usually was, and he seemed too tired to even swear at his appearance.

It was odd.

He attempted to crane his neck to see his watch, which's face had somehow shifted to the side that wasn't visible from the position he was in.

Damn.

Finally sitting up in his seat and adjusting his watch he noticed it was nearly time for class to start. As if on cue, Hakuba stirred from his sleeping position nearly sprawled on his desk and the door slid open again.

Everyone was already - surprisingly - in the classroom already, and he was taken aback upon seeing Aoko, the very person he had been thinking of just a moment ago enter and peer intently into his face.

"What? Not cheering even though your _precious_ KID got away with whatever he was stealing yesterday?"

"G'way," he muttered under his breath, and discreetly brought his hand up to flip her skirt.

Aoko meeped, hands reaching down and preventing the material floating. Kaito, however, frowned, but was jolted up due to the appearance of the classroom's ever-present mop...into his nose.

"Ooh...she actually got a hit in this time!"

The magician in Kaito grinned, leaping into the air and ignoring the pain, leaving the ordinary Kaito to discuss with himself and his alter-ego about the Nakamori. Ordinary Kaito, though, was admittedly thinking about Aoko's new feigned uncanny precision and force. He knew that to a bystander, the hits looked of the same strength as her usual, but when she did get a hit in it _hurt_.

KID-Kaito just knew this wasn't her.

And as the teacher started her lesson, oblivious to (or doing her best to ignore) the daily banter between the two classmates, all parts of Kaito had come to the firm conclusion that they needed a talk with the Aoko-imposter before anyone got seriously hurt.

**-3-**

He took his opportunity as they were switching subjects, dashing out as soon as he could and expecting the faux Aoko to follow.

Of course, 'she' did.

There was this strange location in their school that was relatively hidden to the general audience, in the manner in which none would particularly wish to even walk past the place. Kaito, being the crafty person that he naturally was, had easily discovered it without further trouble, though that was a story in itself.

The reason in which people wouldn't stroll by was clearly due to the shady aura it seemed to emanate...and was further emphasised by an odd rumour that had been flying around their school when he first attended. Obviously, he went and took a look, eventually returning and finding the place rather comfortable. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was like the natural domain of KID, in which he ruled.

'Aoko' stood passively, but now the upper half of her face seemed to be cast in a permanent, sinister shadow, and the wide smirk confirmed his suspicions. Passively, as in a stance that didn't seem to suggest that they wanted to fight and bring him out, but also different enough that it simply wasn't right.

"We're far enough that nobody will hear and in a location unappealing enough to deter those passing by, I suppose that is why you chose this location?"

Kaito suppressed the urge to shudder, instinctive poker face slipping fast over his features. The voice belonged to Aoko all right, but the tone that she had spoken in, smooth and almost drawling, suggested a professional.

A professional killer.

That, coupled with the fact that they had disguised themselves perfectly, the only reason he was able to tell being of the subtle, purposeful changes in stance, he realized something else.

It was all planned.

"Who are you? Why are you here? And...what have you done with Aoko?"

The smirk widened in the way a predator would smirk at his prey.

"Don't worry about your pretty Nakamori-chan," 'Aoko' advised, quirking her eyebrow and mouth widening enough to show teeth. "She's perfectly safe and away from harm."

The person turned around to leave.

"Oh, to why I'm here, I'm sure you'll find out by the end of tomorrow."

There was a glint in their green eyes (wait, _what_?), and Kaito thought it was slightly disturbing, seeing that look on Aoko's face.

The next words spoken were slightly mocking.

"Until next time, Kaitou KID."

A piece of paper drifted from their fingers to the floor as the stranger walked away. Kaito stared at it, but as it did not seem too threatening or anything of the sort he picked it up and read the neat, flowing kanji before dashing off to his next class and bearing whatever scolding he was going to get from his teacher.

...

_I trust you have picked up this note? Good, so there _is_ some trust in you. Your little Aoko is at a hospital looking over her poor overworked father...whether I interfered or not...do simply say that I decided to leave abruptly after receiving a call about him...Evidence? I have that covered, don't worry._

_We shall meet again._

_Sabula_

**-3-**

Aoko arrived at school the next day, slightly flustered. By looking at her, Kaito could tell that this was indeed the real person, and not an imposter. She looked quite stressed and he was kind and content enough to sit there and not disturb her sleep on the table.

Somehow he found himself drifting off into other thoughts, and was disrupted by the teacher's odd words, different from usual.

"...introduce a transfer student."

The student stood confidently and had a grin that scarily reminded him of his alter ego. He was obviously foreign, with russet red hair that had large bangs framing his face. His bright emerald eyes were alert and simply saying that they held knowledge of everything that was going on at that very moment was to be an understatement.

Kaito knew – inexplicably – that this was the same person that he had met one day previously.

Some girls sighed, and Kaito's eye automatically caught on the details most didn't notice. Smooth, slightly long face, slightly high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes, almost unnaturally soft features. Inwardly, he scoffed at their decision on this disguise, and thought that some of them were just entranced by the way he looked different from the rest of the Japanese population.

"Hi, I'm Kudo Shinichi. It's great to meet you."

Kaito glanced at him, and then braced himself for hastily awaiting the next break for the second time in those two days.

**-3-**

"Where were you yesterday, Aoko?"

It turned out that none of them had enough time for a meeting until lunch came around, but when they did Keiko was quick to ask and quick to the point. Akako – what she was doing there Kaito didn't know – stood slightly off to the side, watching him.

"My dad was ill – didn't they tell you? That police officer that phoned me to tell me said he'd contact you."

So that was the ever-so-clever cover story?

"Ah, Nakamori!" As if on cue, 'Kudo' shuffled over to the table they were standing at and smiled. Keiko melted, but Aoko didn't care. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leaned closer to her ear and seemed to whisper conspiratually, "How's your father?"

"You know him?" Kaito asked, one eyebrow arched, noticing out of his peripheral vision that the witch was staring at the 'transfer student'.

"Um..."

"I was the one that called you."

Aoko lit up with recognition. "Oh! That's right. I remember...but didn't you look a bit different?"

Shaking his head, Kudo explained it off to be the dark changing the tone of his hair different and sheepishly he said he hadn't actually brushed his hair before being called to the KID heist. Akako still had her eyes fixed on him, as if trying to send a message to Kaito, who gave a small, unoticable nod.

Kudo looked at him, and simply gave an eerily familiar smirk that gave shudders down his spine.

_Prepare yourself, phantom thief.

* * *

_

Well, here you go. T'was a pain to write and get out, but here nontheless.

I'm so sleepy now, so **please review **and bye...

Nikki


	5. Fourth GAME: Preparation

Thanks **and lots and lots of cookies** go to **riderpurple, Yan Takagawa, MusicDemon8, kudocchi, Sephony, Tsubasa96, Tada21, Kratos Dupres and Yin7** for the favs; **belated thanks to bobbyneko for ****reviewing chapter 3;** **SSCAV, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Sephony, Yan Takagawa and Silver Shadowbreeze** for reviewing Chapter 4 and _Jess.E.D., kirin-saga, Siren Sorceress, MysticMaiden 18, crayontesla and fiasse_ for the alerts since the last two chapters.

Now the thanks system is fairer because I use a randomizer instead of 'first come, further up'.

But you don't want to listen to me, so I'll _see you down below~_

**

* * *

Fourth GAME**

**.: Preparation :.**

"So…Kuroba," Kudo began slowly, drawing the word out on his tongue, a pleased smirk on his face. He leaned closer to where Kaito was reading the newspaper and pointed to a certain, very, very noticeable article. "A Kaitou KID heist tonight, hmm?"

Kaito didn't even glance towards him, continuing to read.

"This _Ice Lotus_ – an eighteen carat white gold piece so called because of the combination of clear and smoky quartz 'lotus petals' that makes it up…but, no, KID isn't interested in that, is he? No, he's interested in the clear, seventy-three carat _trillion_ cut emerald in the heart of those petals, isn't he? I've heard the way the light supposedly reflects through the quartz gives it more body and depth, highlighting further the facets that are unblemished and shielding those that are." Kudo looked towards the magician almost smugly. "Yes, I think that is what he is searching for."

Kaito grumbled something under his breath irately.

"And one would begin to wonder _why_ exactly the KID decided to disappear for eight years, then return _acting_ like a complete amateur and seemingly stealing random things before moving on towards gems and gems only~"

"Shut up," Kaito hissed in response, even though the other's voice was carefully pitched lower as to not travel long distances.

"But of course, you know, don't you, my darling _phantom thief_?"

**- 4 -**

No sane person would stray to the line of calling Saguru Hakuba a fool. That would mean the patented Detective Glare would be turned towards them, and if Watson was with him a sharp snap of her beak (preferably somewhere painful and easy to reach, like their noses).

However, with the appearance of this Kudo Shinichi, his sudden introduction into the Task Force _and_ the murder investigation unit and Nakamori Ginzo's illness all occurring within the span of a month, it was very suspicious.

So that was why he kept him under watch.

Obviously, it didn't always work.

For one thing, sometimes it was easy, and other times he would be lost altogether, Kudo dropping him in what seemed like a mere second.

He thought back to the conversation he had overheard a moment ago. In reality, he hadn't really been paying much attention to it, merely the last few words happened to catch his attention.

"…_my darling _phantom thief_."_

The speech abruptly changing from flawless Japanese to flawless English without a further need of breath, spoken fast enough that only those fluent enough in the language would be able to decipher it astounded him. Saguru himself needed a moment to switch his mind to process his native language, not having heard it for more than a year, at most.

A year.

And it pained him to know that he was not the one who said it.

* * *

"_Mother…"_

_Sixteen years old, Saguru stood sadly, hair slightly tousled from the wind. He was wrapped almost head to toe in thick, dark layers obviously to shelter him against the elements, yet obviously not enough as he could feel the chill begin to seep through his scarf._

_The Kaitou KID heists had briefly dwindled, a welcome relief from the many consecutive sleepless nights he once endured. It was now that he was given the opportunity to return to England and meet his mother once more._

"_Much has happened this past year," he intoned, glancing away. "KID has been after varying gems that equate to a total of approximately two hundred and seventy million yen – but, I know you don't want to hear that such thing._

"_I am well, if one ignores the insomnia I have gained from countless nights of continuous heists. My body seems to have adjusted to the lack of sleep and my sleeping times changed accordingly." Saguru laughed, a laugh that was slightly empty. "I think I may have become nocturnal, as they say."_

_He sighed. Really, it had been too long since he last visited her. Even though she was unable to respond, a sense of calm would always fall on him with each and every meeting._

_Another presence approached them, and he began to raise his guard._

"_Audrey…" Barely a whisper, the voice was filled with a resigned finality. "It's been a while..."_

_The figure brushed past him to present her a cluster of purple hyacinths, and Saguru turned away, heart pierced with another shard of guilt. His mind, trained for piecing apart and analysing each and every thing instantaneously knew the meaning purple hyacinths beared; I am sorry, please forgive me._

_He berated himself repeatedly. An interest in detective work was what distanced him from his mother in the first place. It was disrespectful to think of such at the point he was at…_

_Desperate for something to distract him, he turned to the stranger, and eyes of brilliant blue stared directly back at him. It seemed as if his moment of reminiscence had in fact been longer than he had previously thought. He now saw that the other wore clothes quite similar to his own, except his coat's hood gave shadows over his face, meaning it was difficult to seek out other features._

_It was curious, and he impulsively sparked up with lists of odd behaviour to add in case a crime occurred. Like previously, he tamed it with thoughts of sorrow and realized he never even knew the other's name._

_You are Saguru Hakuba, answered the stranger when he posed the question, before continuing. Who I am is of no concern._

_With those words, it seemed as if tears came to the stranger's eyes. The other's eyes told everything that was on their mind, and if the slight displeasure and extra alertness flickering in them was true he wasn't one to freely display emotion in public._

"_Why are you here; what relation do you have with her?"_

_Inwardly, Saguru winced at the harshness the statement came out, but his gaze remained steady and firm._

_The silence that stretched between them then was long and chilling, the stranger turning away and trying to blink his eyes dry. Trees rustled from the heavy puffs of wind and hair fluttered, but neither of them moved._

_It was almost an eternity later in which the pause was broken, and the stranger faced him to speak again._

"_You may call me Sabra…and as to whom I am to her…" his voice shifted abruptly; changing tones as if what he said was really that simple. "I was the one who killed her."_

_The wind picked up with those words as if on cue, and instinctively Saguru raised his arm to shield himself from the flying leaf litter and debris. The moment he turned back to face the speaker, to demand answers, he was gone._

_Sixteen years old, Saguru stood sadly, his mother's gravestone mocking him behind nature's veil._

**- 4 -**

He looked around their pre-determined meeting place, eyes seemingly relaxed but alert with a calm serenity as they surveyed all possible factors. At this time of day, the corner of Beika Park with the masses of trees off the soccer fields was quite deserted, the lone people drifting around quickly shooed away either by his glares or irritated pacing. At eleven in the morning, school was still on, students and adults alike absorbed in their jobs, whatever they may have been, so it was a good time to initiate a meeting, but…

Nariaki frowned.

The other person was most likely late, as usual, probably apologizing profusely to the unlucky soul they bumped into. He pitied them and their clumsiness, he really did, but such accidents were common when around someone of that sort.

A shout to his right made him turn, and Nariaki's twelve minutes of waiting paid off.

"Ah, Minori!"

He bowed his head in slight greeting. Eisuke's face distorted disapprovingly in reply, feminine features acting against him.

"Geez, lighten up, Kudo..." Suddenly, he seemed to remember where he was and what he was doing at the look the other sent him, and his voice lowered to a whisper. "Right. _She_ got a message through to me two days ago."

Nariaki's eyebrow rose a fraction at this news, and he looked at the Hondou's face sceptically with a hint of curiousness. "Your sister?"

An affirmative nod was his reply.

"It wasn't very long, but she just said that _they_ seem to be going through trouble. Apparently there's uproar in the inner workings of the org –" He briefly cut himself off at the look he received, a different one of apology in his eyes. "– in their inner workings. Apparently _anokata _is refusing every request they're receiving from their members and not giving any answers, and because of that many members are irritated, annoyed and confused. Gin's restlessness is showing through and he's colder than normal - how that is possible I don't know at _all_ - and that Belmont is acting strange."

_What?_ Nariaki couldn't understand why the Organization, after being so tightly-knit and discrete could suddenly be overwhelmed with a torrent of emotion threatening to rock their entire foundations off themselves. Their leader losing all control over the subordinates of this international syndicate...it wasn't right, it was just so _so_ wrong...

A thought flickered across his mind. How could he not have considered that now...but first...

"Does Jodie-sensei know about this?"

Eisuke shook his head. "No. You're the first person I've told." He blinked cluelessly, as if he had no clue what he was doing. "Should I have told her?"

"No. It's fine."

The tone was final, and Eisuke took it as that. He didn't have any experience with dealing with these matters, as he was just the messenger. Neither of them were prepared for the next words to come out of Nariaki's mouth, least of all the speaker himself.

"It's time we made our move."

* * *

**A/N: **And the plot thickens! Dundundun~

Sorry for the wait...really...D:

About Kudo Nariaki/Edogawa Minori: He is my Conan-replacement. The only OC that'll play a part that's not a one-use thing, necessary because this also follows the DC storyline not just MK. You'll learn more about him later...(I felt really really bad typing his name in the story. I guess I'm not used to using OCs...I don't like it.)

*insert dramatic music here*

See you...maybe...soon?

**I now have this section on my profile detailing the likeliness of updates and the current status of written chapters as well as a whole load of other factors. **Because I'm a bad updater like that.

_Next Chapter: Should be Shinichi meeting Nariaki. And Saguru continues to get closer to TEH TRUTH~ (I think this is what happens. I misplaced my plan for the next chapter.)

* * *

_

**Do it. Nao.  
(I'll write faster~!)  
l  
****l  
V  
**


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